William walked into the school's run-down hall behind Santos. Zach trailed behind him, and the procession of those that passed the first test walked in single file to a side room. Everyone was quiet, slowly recovering from the ordeal they had all gone through.

The drive to learn whatever the old man had done was only increasing. Whether it was Arc ability specific or not, Will wasn’t sure. This was a whole new world for him. A world he was starting to get excited about learning about. Rolling his shoulders, he tried to stretch out his muscles a little. Surely a test like this would include some sort of physical aspect. Though he couldn’t run as far as he used to be able to, running was still an activity he enjoyed. He was confident he could compete with the best of them.

Will stepped into the new room, which appeared to have once been a library. The carpet in the wide open space, where bookshelves and tables once stood, was discolored. A few stray books were sitting around in the corner; schools had been one of many targets for shelter at the start of the Anarchist War. Books served as great kindling, were usually built of brick and other long-lasting material, and had a store of food people were able to use during the worst of it.

“Take a seat,” Maven said as he stopped in the middle of the room. He pointed to the carpet in front of him. Slowly, the others obliged. Sticking close to Samson and Santos, no one talked; everyone was waiting for a word from Maven. They were all nervous for the next test; they looked up at him expectantly.

“You did good back there,” Maven said, his eyes meeting everyone’s one by one. “That little show was a small aspect of growing strong with your ability. Normally, that trick I pulled is called Killing Intent.”

“Seriously?” Samson asked. “Intent?”

“Yes,” Maven said. “Don’t think too much about it now. Just accept it for what it is. This provides a brief insight into the life of an Arc. That Killing Intent can only be sensed by other Arcs. You all emit a subtle energy without realizing it. Trust me, you’re a few years of training away from harnessing it. For now, accept that it is there.”

Will wasn’t sure about that, but Goons were able to tell who was an Arc. Maybe that had something to do with it. “Now, this second and final test is a little invasive.”

“Like butt stuff?” Samson asked, causing a few to laugh slightly. From what Will remembered of him, he talked constantly. Usually speaking before he thought. It made Samson more genuine in Will's eyes.

“Worse,” Maven said without hesitation. This caused everyone to stiffen. "I'm not going to discuss my abilities with any of you, but I want to get to know you before I decide to teach you. You have all proven that you can handle pressure, as most have since survived the Anarchist War. Thus, I want to get to know what brought you to this point. Do you all agree to proceed with the next test?

“What are you saying exactly?” Santos asked slowly.

“I can’t tell you. You probably wouldn’t believe me if I did. So that’s all you get. I want to know you. You won’t move from this spot, but I will be able to learn your deepest and darkest secrets if I wish. I don’t plan to go that deep, so I want your permission to proceed.”

“And if we say no?” A girl inquired.

“Then there is the door. Sorry, no gifts for getting this far. You can go about your days, and I will pick someone else to teach,” Maven said, locking eyes with her. The shorter girl had blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. Her eyes didn’t stray from his. “Will you risk it? Will you dare to take a chance on this upcoming test? Or will you run away and never discover what your abilities can really do?"

William wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but after seeing the show with the Killing Intent he didn’t plan to leave. The nine remaining finalists exchanged glances but did not move. They sat up straight, then turned back to Maven. Some nodded, others waited patiently. Maven paused for a few seconds. His right arm extended to the group, and white streaks of lightning shot out from his hand, slamming into the foreheads of each and every one of them. Plunging them into darkness.

—

Will was awake as he slept. At least that was how he felt—like he was sleeping. Attempting to open his eyes revealed nothing. Everything around him was a blank canvas of darkness. Waiting for long seconds, he remembered the test Maven had given him. Stepping onto the stage felt like a distant memory, for some reason. Sitting down to take the next test also felt distant, but a part of him said it just happened.

Taking deep calming breaths, he wasn’t sure what was going on. Then the voice sounded in his ear. “There it is,” Maven said. "Sorry, one sec; it’s a hassle to juggle 10 minds at once. And…there it…is.” With the last word, the scenery changed to that of a room. It wasn't just any room, but William's room.

This was his room, the only home he knew of, back when his parents owned a house. Will looked around. The room was as he remembered it. Dinosaur bed sheets and blanket. A beanbag chair by the bed had a small TV in front of it with a gaming station plugged in. Posters of various bands, video game characters, and other items adorned the walls.

“Very nice,” Maven said as he appeared next to William.

He turned to the old man and asked, "What the hell's going on?"

“I’m pulling up some of your memories. I'm trying to get a sense of you.” He waved his hand at the bean bag chair, and a much younger William appeared in it. Holding an invisible controller, the small version faced a screen with nothing on it, as if he saw a game there.

“How are you doing this?”

“Don’t ask how; I won’t answer,” Maven said as he studied the young Will.

“Then why?” William asked.

“Better. The reason is simple: I want to get a feel for you. This is a small waiting room as I sort through more of your memories,” Maven admitted. “So this was you before the world went to crap? Kind of lackluster, eh?”

“I was what? 10?” Will asked.

“Still, is this you when there is so much going on outside?” Maven asked. “Shouldn’t you be out in the world?" He gestured towards a window that opened into a pitch-black void. "Getting into trouble? Playing with friends?”

“We lived in the city. My parents didn’t allow that,” Will retorted.

“That is a lie,” Maven said, his icy eyes boring into Will. “Tell the truth.”

Will frowned, admitting, “Fine. I’m not the best with friends. At the time, I hadn't seen my dad much because he worked nights. I don’t know. I liked video games. Why does it matter?”

“I don’t know, but this memory is special to you,” Maven said. “You had it marked.”

“Marked?” Will asked.

“Yes, marked, as it implies. This is one of your readily available memories,” Maven said.

“How are you-”

“Don’t bother with the how. Again, accept it. Answer me, please, why do you like this memory?”

Will looked around. It was straightforward to know why. This was the time when the world was simpler. He didn’t have to worry about Goons, surviving; he had both his parents. He didn’t appreciate them back then, but this memory was good because he knew his place in the world. Just a kid playing a game. No powers to worry about.

“Very good,” Maven said, as if William had answered. Will was starting to suspect the guy could read his mind. He would have to watch it.

“Good idea,” Maven said. “Let’s go a little further ahead.” The world blinked, and they were in a new room. This time they were in the living room, only a few feet away from Will’s room.

A 12-year-old Will was sitting at the table, eating with both of his parents. His father was still wearing a police uniform. William still remembered this day, but he had never seen it in such sharp detail. Before he could help it, he was walking toward his parents. Tears wanted to come to his eyes, but nothing came. This wasn’t his body; they were somewhere in his mind.

“How’s school?” Will's dad inquired. The real Will covered his mouth. He had forgotten his dad’s voice, but there it was. Strong and deep. William's father had the same dark black hair as he did. He had tan skin and some muscles, but not an ounce of fat on him.

Stolen novel; please report.

“Okay,” young Will answered.

“Thinking about any sports?” His mom asked. She was far younger than the last time Will had seen her. Near the end of the Anarchist War, she met her demise. Back then, she was just skin and bones, but now she exuded a healthy glow. She had light blonde hair; she had a strength about her Will hadn’t noticed back then. But she had got him through the worst of the war with sheer willpower, saving him more than once.

“I don’t know,” young Will said. He continued to speak, but no words came out.

“I see why you marked this memory,” Maven said. “Nice and simple.” He walked over to Will’s parents. Setting his hands on their shoulders. With a sad smile on his lips, he eyed them, then looked up at Will. “I’m sure you miss them.”

Will didn’t trust himself to answer. All he could do was nod. Will's dad gestured with his hand, picked up his cell phone, and answered it. No words came out, but as his dad got up and moved to the TV, the sound kicked back on.

"Washington, D.C., has disappeared,” a newscaster said. “This is a state of emergency. We only have this video because satellite images are down, but D.C. is no longer in sight. The screen changed to grainy footage from a camera. The image was a city, taken from the ocean. Will could hear waves in the audio. At first, nothing happened, then the buildings began to sink. All of them, as if they were moving down a slow elevator, went down and down until they disappeared. A huge fireball exploded, raising the dirt, but no buildings resurfaced.

Will’s family was in stunned silence as they watched. The newscaster continued to talk. Another video was received, and they played it from the point of view of the land. Someone, either lucky or unlucky, happened to be right next to the city when it sank. The world quickly began to descend.

“I have to get to work,” Will’s dad said.

“Honey!” His mother said, His parents shared a look. Going in for a kiss, little did they know it would be the last time they saw one another. Will was slowly becoming desensitized to this reenactment of his youth, but it hurt to see it. It hurt much more than he ever thought possible.

“Ready for the next one?” Maven asked.

“Can we not?” Will pleaded. His eyes were on his mother as she stared at the door. “Uh, what is the point of this?”

Maven eyed him. He let out a long sigh. “Despite what you think, there are thousands upon thousands of Arcs out there. Some of them have the ability to bring out your deepest and darkest memories. Using them against you. Right here, it’s nothing. If I am to train you, I need to understand your strengths and weaknesses. Know your choices and what life events made you who you are.”

Will finally drew his eyes away from his mother. “And this will make me stronger?” Will asked.

“Every experience makes you stronger,” Maven said. “Let’s see the experiences that made you the strongest.”

Will felt a lump in his throat grow larger, but he nodded anyway. With that, the world changed once more.

—

A younger William chewed his nails. They were almost too short now, but the real Will understood why. It had been one of many times he was starving at the start of the Anarchist War. He hadn’t seen his dad in weeks. Gunfire was constant outside. Since the city center was on fire, Will was practically confined to his room.

His mother had left the day before for supplies but hadn’t come back yet. The young Will was starting to come to terms with the fact that neither of his parents were coming back.

"Damn, it looks bad,” Maven said.

“You’re telling me,” Will said as sarcastically as possible. The young Will stared at the door, trying to raise enough courage to step outside.

“How long before you would have left?” Maven asked.

“No idea. Probably another full day,” he admitted. “I was hungry, but the outside was way more scary.”

“Yep,” Maven said. The scene of young Will sitting on his bed, rocking back and forth, sped up until someone knocked on the door.

“W-who is it?” He asked, his voice cracking.

“It’s me,” William’s mom’s voice answered from behind the door. Will let out a long sigh and began pushing the chair and other items away from the door. He opened the door, and his mother enveloped him in a big hug. Young Will found himself crying as they whispered about how delighted they were to see each other. When they were calming down, Will’s stomach growled loudly.

His mother frowned at him. “I had to give up what I found,” she admitted.

“That’s fine. I’m just glad you’re okay,” Will said truthfully. “Wh-what are we going to do now?”

“Now?” She asked with a frown on her lips. “Now we venture out together.”

“T-together?” Young Will asked. He was hardly trying to hide his fear.

“Yes, William,” she said. “It’s no longer safe here. Outside can be worse, but some people are banding together. We need to join the groups. It’s getting colder outside. We need to prepare.”

“B-but out there?” Will asked. He had recently witnessed the first murder outside his window. It was still affecting him, but he was doing his best to try to stay strong for his mother. Neither knew that Will’s father was dead, but they both suspected it. Despite never talking about it,.

“William, I need you to be strong. Like your dad said, you’re the man of the house while he’s away. That means stepping outside of it.” The real Will remembered this conversation. This conversation marked a pivotal moment in his life during a period of extreme hardship. His first step was to become a real man when he needed to be.

His mother continued to talk to him. Warnings of this or that. Will turned to Maven. Uncertain of how this was all happening, Will decided to let it continue. These vivid memories were the closest thing to contact he had to his parents in a long time.

“Is this all you wanted to see?” Will inquired, knowing it would only get worse from there.

“No,” Maven said. “Let’s go…” The old man turned around as if he were looking somewhere distant. “Here.”

The scene changed to William in the alley with Samson, Santos, and the others when the Goons first appeared.

“Woah, it’s Rhinehold,” Maven said, his eyes focused on the first Arc will had seen.

“You know him?” Will asked, confused. Was the old man really a Goon?

“Yeah, they call him the Rhino,” Maven said.

“Why do they do that?”

“Goons are big on nicknames, trust me.” It came to the point when the bullet was fired at the Goon. The concrete surrounding the three vehicles shot up, creating a barrier around them. “Never fight that guy on solid ground. He’s a dick.”

Will was about to ask more, but the scene sped up. William and Maven followed the group of young boys as they ran away from the scene. A naive and lost Will stuck with Samson and Santos. Eventually, they made it back to camp to find it abandoned.

Time slowed down to normal as the trio found the remains of William’s mother. A boulder crushed her body. This was a scene he did not need help remembering. He had committed every detail to memory.

The smoke from fires smoldering away. Overturned tents. The supplies were stolen as people ran away from the Arcs. The arrival of the Goons cost them everything they had fought for. Men and women with a special power that made everything worthless.

“Was it Rhinehold who crushed her?” William questioned Maven. He saw blood seeping from his mother's mouth. The young William cried over her body as the older and more seasoned version looked down at them.

“There’s no way to tell,” Maven said sadly. “Despite what most people think, Arc abilities are not unique. Controlling rocks and soil is a fairly common ability. Any one of the Goons could have thrown it. Without knowing who was assigned to the team…”

Will nodded. He'd never really hoped he could find her true killer. But a small part of him was beginning to wonder if he had become strong enough. Maybe he could find out.

“Come on,” Maven said. “One more.”

Will nodded, turning from the scene before him. Turning his back on his mother, they were already at a new memory. It was a few days after he found his mother’s remains. He, Samson, and Santos were separated. Will was on his own for the first time during the Anarchist War.

Huddled up in the corner, he had hidden in the sewers. He had ventured into them when it was light outside, but once the sun went down, it became pitch black inside the dark tunnels.

The sounds of rats and other people echoed everywhere. William sat against the wall. He rocked back and forth as he mumbled to himself. He waited for the sun to rise.

“Here it is,” Maven said.

Slowly, the area began to brighten. A few objects around Will became visible. It took Will some time to notice, but when he did, he mistakenly believed the sun was rising. Standing up, it wasn’t until he was fully erect that he noticed the light was coming from him. From his skin. An eerie white glow illuminated the world.

“What was going through your mind at that point?” Maven asked.

The young William looked around in awe. Light emitting from his body flickered, died, and was then brought back out as Will gained control of his Arc power.

“I have a useless power,” William said. “Wooptydoo, I can glow.”

“Glow? Seriously, that’s what you think your power is?” Maven asked.

“Look at me,” Will said, pointing at his visage. “I’m glowing.”

“Aye, that you are. But so much more than that,” Maven said. "People often use light to find their way, William. Let me tell you a secret. Your powers are never what you think. They grow and evolve, just as you do. As we train and practice with them, they become accustomed to us all.

“Really?” Will inquired with a hint of optimism.

“Really, really. Now tell me, what were you thinking in this moment?” Maven asked.

William took a steady breath and studied his younger body. “I don’t know. Relief? Finally, I had some light. I didn’t have to be in the dark anymore.”

“And what changed in you?” Maven asked. “What made you no longer pleased to have this power?”

"When I found myself outdoors again, surrounded by people, I didn’t want to be outed as a freak.”

“And where has that gotten you?” Maven asked. William hesitated to answer. They studied one another for a while, gauging how best to reply. Will tried to think of the best answer, but the old man beat him to it.

“Are you interested in getting that joy back? Finding this excitement once again? Learn about your true potential. What your power actually is?” Maven asked in a low tone.

William cast a glance at his youthful physique, experimenting with its potential. He repeatedly made the area brighter and dimmer, overcoming his fear of the dark. “You really think you can teach me?”

“I know I can. As long as you're willing to learn, Maven assured him. There was no falsehood in his statement. A simple nod was all it took. William felt that hope—just a sliver of it. That nod helped put a small smile on his face, and his vision turned white.